


Ache

by CandyXatu



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: (On Jon's end this time :) ), Bittersweet Ending, Established Relationship, Loneliness, Lonely!Martin, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 11:36:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18260489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CandyXatu/pseuds/CandyXatu
Summary: Jon had never really given the phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' any thought, likely because he'd never been close enough to anyone to miss their presence so keenly, but now he understood.





	Ache

Jon's heart had never ached like this before.

 

Not when he was pining for Martin, not when he was an ocean away from him, never. Because, unlike now, those times, Martin had only been a phone call away at most. Always willing to find Jon, always happy to see him, always offering tea and soft smiles.

 

But now? Now, Jon was lucky to see Martin without him being blurred at the edges. Too dull. Too different from the bright-eyed, bumbling man Jon loved.

 

He could See Martin, of course. Jon knew, right now, Martin was settled in a forgotten corner of the library, reading a large hardback book that Jon couldn't See the title of. He also knew that if he went to find Martin, he would disappear, just as he usually did, either taking the book with him, or leaving it on the chair, the only sign that he'd ever been there in the first place.

 

Later, Jon would seek the book out, curl up in the same space Martin had been in, place his hands in the same spaces Martin's had been, pretend that the warmth at his back was Martin, and not the worn-down arm chair.

 

 

It had been quite a while since Jon had buried himself in his work to avoid leaving. After moving in with Martin, going home after work just became ritual. Nights spent at the Institute were rarer than nights spent at home, Jon had rather liked it that way. But now, he just couldn't face the empty flat. It felt desolate, uninhabited. Martin had a way of making anywhere feel like home. Without him, the flat was lifeless.

 

Sometimes, on the rare nights Jon slept in their abandoned bed, he would be woken up to Martin slipping into bed beside him at an ungodly hour of the morning. The first time it happened, Jon made the rookie mistake of letting Martin know he was awake, reaching out and wrapping his arms around him. By the time he was leaning in to press a kiss to his shoulder, Martin was gone, slipping through his fingers like sand. Jon fell back asleep hours later on a tear stained pillow.

 

Now, Jon was smarter, more experienced. Whenever Martin actually came home, Jon stayed deathly still, forcing his breathing to keep even. When he was sure Martin was asleep, and only when he was sure, Jon would turn to face Martin, who always had his back turned, and slowly, sometimes over the course of hours, hug him as close as he could. He was always gone when Jon woke up in the morning, but it was better than nothing.

 

 

Martin still loved him, that was Jon's only comfort. He'd said as much, and Jon's cruel mind memorized his words verbatim, and replayed them whenever he got a little too comfortable in his work.

 

_'I love you, Jon, I promise. When this is all over, I swear I'll tell you everything.'_

 

Jon wanted to scream. He wanted to cry. He wanted to beg Martin to tell him what was happening, _why won't you tell me now? What is Peter threatening you with? What is he doing to you?_

 

He didn't though. He didn't ask, didn't compel, didn't have a tantrum. He did nothing. Just silently, solemnly accepted the gentle kiss Martin left on his cheek, turned, and watched him go. Martin didn't even look back as he left Artifact storage.

 

 

Martin just left the library, and Jon's Vision blurred with static. He turned his attention back to his desk, where he had a stack of Martin's old tapes. Some statements, some poetry. He preferred the poetry, sometimes (a lot of the time) they were about him, and it was wonderful to hear Martin talk about him again, especially in the ones from back when Martin still spoke with joy and a smile in his voice.

 

_'with eyes like a storm, and a smile warm as Summer-'_

 

Jon could feel Martin's presence outside his door. He didn't knock, and Jon didn't invite him in for fear of scaring him off.

 

If Jon closed his eyes, he could almost pretend that nothing had changed, that he was two years back and just listening to Martin go over his ideas, rambling and thinking out loud.

 

So Jon did close his eyes, and allowed himself the briefest smile.

**Author's Note:**

> i literally got the inspiration for this fic this morning and ended up losing all semblance of self control and wrote it on the same day, Yikes! unbeta'd and completely unplanned, so please be nice :'')


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